


these are the times that try men's souls

by ska1224



Series: OCs [1]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Kingdom of the Midnight Forest
Genre: Marriage, Minor Character Death (Mentioned), Nonbinary Character, Other, Self-Reflection, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 20:38:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14961764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ska1224/pseuds/ska1224
Summary: "And in that moment, Nevarra understood Bamner more than ever before. He had been in Nevarra’s position not a hundred years ago. He was depended on, respected, a known leader and brave fighter. But he had lost everything, including the war--but more importantly, the ones he loved."





	these are the times that try men's souls

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't written about nevarra yet which is a crime bc the campaign is 2-3 years old??? so here's a little thought process behind my kiddo  
> (nevarra uses they/them pronouns)  
> (also its like midnight please forgive any errors lkjasd)

The worst thing about war, Nevarra thinks, is you never know when it’s going to come. 

There’s around three hundred of them scattered around the campsites and Nevarra can’t hear any sound aside from an occasional rustle or the natural ones of the forest. Everyone’s face is grim, many people are writing possible last letters, most are simply sitting and staring into the flames. 

Nevarra’s eyes dropped to their hands and they looked at the callouses from hard labor, the scars from years of hunting, and places where bones had broken in fights. They curled their hands into fists and squeezed. Everyone had lost so much. Would it be worth it?

Bamner, who had fought a war like this one just a hundred years ago, was holding a sword bearing the Foreriver’s crest. Nevarra didn’t know whether the shine in his eyes were from the flames or tears. They didn’t bother to ask.

And Ownka, the girl who they all loved, had just turned fifteen. She was now an adult in Orc years but merely a child in so many of their own eyes. Nevarra thought back to that fateful night three years ago, when Ownka had said enough was enough and spoke against tyranny in the market place, who risked death to speak about what was right. Nevarra thought back to how they hadn’t even thought when the King's guards had come running, just nocked an arrow on their bow and released, how a handful of other strangers had jumped up to help them. Another memory flickered into Nevarra’s mind and their face flushed with shame and they had to turn their eyes from the orphan that they alone had created. 

Swallowing hard, Nevarra’s eyes flickered up to Zora, their best friend. She was curled up on the ground, passed out from spending all of her magical energy trying to destroy the spider. Orryn lay nearby, talking to the old drow skull he took years ago. Jeffery was laying near Bamner, exhaustion from running a rebellion and the news of his sister finally taking a toll. Finally, Nevarra glanced at Miriah. She was new, and had proved her worth, but Nevarra wasn’t entirely sure she trusted her. After all, Miriah was a bounty hunter and Nevarra and the others had a very generous bounty on their heads. But then again, she had had plenty of opportunity to betray them. 

Nevarra’s eyes found their hands again. They supposed they were slow to trust because they didn’t want to lose anyone again. There had been eleven different members of their party, before Miriah, and only three of the original ones had remained. Nevarra bit their fist. Some of them had left. Some of them had disappeared. Some of them had died. They didn't like to think about it.

And then there was Deorwine--a city where they had sent refugees--adults, children, sick, poor, anyone who needed help or couldn’t stand this tyranny any longer. King Vexacion had sent dragons to that city. He had slaughtered them.

Standing abruptly, Orryn and Miriah’s eyes immediately snapped up to Nevarra’s own. They shook their head, silently dispelling any worries before turning on their heel and walking a ways into the forest. And there, Nevarra found a tree and did something they hadn’t done in the three years since this war had started. 

They cried. 

They mourned the friends lost along the way, and the losses they experienced. They grieved for those who were trapped in some hellish torment--as slaves, as prisoners, as people who could not speak their mind for fear of death.

They thought back to Yewlie, and to their brother, to Hugget, to Vierna and her own brother, to No Name, to Tazrel, to Kip and Crush and Madame Tristine and all of Zora’s friends. They thought about every person they had met along the way, and they thought about how their lives might be different had King Vexacion never taken the throne. How many of them would still be alive? Happy?

Nevarra wondered if any of the dead from this war would be like the ghost from the Foreriver War they met two years back, not able to move on, not even knowing whether they  had won or lost. They cried harder because they knew the answer. There would be many tormented souls because of this war. Finally, after what could’ve been minutes or hours, Nevarra wiped their face off and stood.

And in that moment, Nevarra understood Bamner more than ever before. He had been in Nevarra’s position not a hundred years ago. He was depended on, respected, a known leader and brave fighter. But he had lost everything, including the war--but more importantly, the ones he loved. Nevarra suddenly regretted everything harsh thing they said about him and his alcoholism.

They made their way back to camp, a neutral expression on their face. Nevarra found Jeffery and lay down in front of him. His eyelids fluttered open and a hand found its way to rest on Nevarra’s cheek. They couldn’t help but let a few tears and a watery smile slip out. Jeffery pulled Nevarra closer and tucked their head under his chin. He ran his hand through Nevarra’s shaggy hair, and they both knew they would be talking later about this. 

Nevarra leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss against Jeffery’s jugular and looked up, into his eyes. A decision was made in that moment, one that Nevarra had been pushing off for three years.

Nevarra spoke softly as to not wake any others. “I think we should get married. Right now. And if we both survive this--”

“ _ When.  _ When we both survive this.” Jeffery interjected, arms tightening around Nevarra.

“When. When we both survive this we’ll have a proper wedding. Zora will officiate it. Ownka can be the flower girl. Bamner can walk you down the aisle. Miriah can give blessings. Orryn can… I don’t know what a necromancer can do at a wedding but he’ll do something.”

Jeffery laughed quietly at that. Then, after a moment's thought, he took a chain from underneath his shirt and slipped a ring off of it. Nevarra did the same and the pair smiled softly. 

“Do you, Nevarra, take me, Jeffery Longbird, to be your husband, for now and forever?” he said, a soft expression on his face.

“I do. And do you, Jeffery Longbird, take me, Nevarra, to be your spouse, for now and forever?”

“I do. You may now kiss the groom.”

They pressed their lips together for the first time, as they lay on the ground only a day’s ride away from the capital. They slipped their rings onto each other’s hands, knowing that tomorrow held the fate of their world. They lay entwined, knowing that tomorrow death would loom over them all. They listened to each other's breaths, knowing that tomorrow, many of them would not survive. That they all might die.

But that was for tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> this was kind of inspired by this quote from All Quiet on the Western Front:  
> “I am young, I am twenty years old; yet I know nothing of life but despair, death, fear, and fatuous superficiality cast over an abyss of sorrow. I see how peoples are set against one another, and in silence, unknowingly, foolishly, obediently, innocently slay one another.”  
> and this quote from Thomas Paine:  
> “These are the times that try men's souls. The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of their country; but he that stands by it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman. Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly: it is dearness only that gives every thing its value. Heaven knows how to put a proper price upon its goods; and it would be strange indeed if so celestial an article as freedom should not be highly rated.”  
> (thank u star trek for that last quote)


End file.
